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Lightning screamed like a banshee as it ripped through the blackened sky. Like a heated blade through butter, it sliced through the silence of the quiet night. Small animals fled the scene as the lightning crashed into the middle of a barren field with the force of a titan’s foot. The lightning was not natural, at least that was assumed by its strange bluish glow. The unnatural phenomenon was not followed by the usual thunder from its natural counterpart, but by an unnatural silence, much like being caught in the eye of a storm. Much in the same light as well, it was merely a pretense of danger to come shortly thereafter. The intense burst on the ground left a crater the size of a small house, depressed about 15 feet into the rock solid earth. Still smoldering, the crater began to emit a strange bluish glow from every uneven place of displaced dirt and debris. The strange smoke seemed to draw towards the center of the crater. Writhing around itself, it began to take the shape of something vaguely humanoid in shape. The smoke began to solidify, forming into a pale, grayish, emaciated figure that could only be described as alien. The bald, faceless head we even more off putting by its large, expressionless yellow eyes. It looked slowly from side to side, scanning the area like a predator until its gaze met with that of a small figure standing but 40 feet away, directly out of the radius of the craters blast zone.
Gerbo looked forward at this monstrosity that had appeared before him, unmoving and utterly terrified. As the fear took him, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. His hands clenched tight, his legs grew as heavy as lead, and a lump grew in the back of his throat. He thought to himself, repeating over and over in his head, “No! Not him! It can’t be!” He tried to move, tried to run, but his body was not in his control. Fear had taken control of both his body and mind, and had planted him firmly to the ground. The figure locked eyes with him and began to move. Slow and meticulous, the figure continued forward. With each step Gerbo’s fear grew more, causing him to start trembling. The figure began to raise his hand as strange markings began to glow around his entire body. The arcane ruins started emitting the same strange blue smoke from before. Manipulating the smoke like a marionette, the figure thrust the smoke at the helpless gnome. The smoke buried itself deep into the skin of Gerbo, causing tendrils of pain to shoot threw every vain up into his brain. He cried in pain as he collapsed to the ground landing on his knees. Trying to alleviate the pain, he grabbed at his skull, but it was to no avail. Suddenly the pain intensified as a horrible, other worldly voice crept into his mind.
“You! I have found you at last, worm!” the voice seemed to grow darker and more foreboding as it continued. “Know that you will pay for what you and your friends did! It will not be swift; your torment will last for an eternity!” The figure then lowered his hand and the smoke subsided. The pain emptied from Gerbo’s mind and he fell to the ground, his muscles giving out on him. He hit the ground with a thud as the figure closed in on the limp body. The creature reached down and palmed Gerbo at the base of his head, wrapping his lanky fingers around. His small head fit easily into his grasp. With little effort, the figure pulled Gerbo clear into the air about 6 feet off of the ground.
Gerbo, with tears in his eyes, forced out a few words with the little strength he had left. “But we destroyed you!” His voice was trembling, barely able to form the words. “You shouldn’t be here… you shouldn’t be here!” Pain then whipped into his brain again, as the words returned.
“Folly on your behalf then. You can’t stop me, no one can. This is just the way it is. You will die, just like your friends. Just like your father. Your existence will be wiped from the cosmos, and you will know the true meaning of suffering, despair, and pain!”
With those words, Gerbo felt an extreme heat flow through his body. Every vain, follicle, and inch of skin began to burn as if it was placed onto a hot furnace. Gerbo strained to open his eyes. Shocked, he saw his skin melting, dripping off of his bones and forming into piles of goo on the grass bellow him. He cried out in pain as the blackness of death enveloped him.

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Screaming at the top of his lungs, Gerbo awoke with such a sudden jolt, he launched himself a clear 3 feet into the air, toppling off of his bed. In a giant mass of pillows, blankets, and gnome, he landed on the floor relatively unharmed. Taking a moment to register what had just happened; he laid still and looked at his surroundings. His heart slowed down, back to a normal rate and the chills from the night sweats subsided. He was in his room he noticed, and it was exactly the same as he left it the night before. Random tombs and scrolls littered the ground and every inch of free space on the many tables and other furnishings around the room. Dust covered everything, from the drapes to the windows; even a small plate on his bedside table with a moldy piece of cheese. Rubbing his head, Gerbo forced the images from his dream out of his head and tried to start his daily routine as normal. He untangled himself from the blankets and grabbed one of the dusty tombs off of the ground and headed towards his chair. The giant red satin seat was full of holes and smelt like a unwashed pig farmer, but if was perfectly fit to the grooves of his small gnome body. He sat down and wiggled a bit until he fit into it perfectly like two matching puzzle pieces.
Looking down at the book, Gerbo let out a sigh and began speaking to himself. “Alright then, let’s see what we have here!” He blew off a think layer of dust from the cover and read the title aloud. “Monsters that start with the letter ‘Ouch’… oh, never mind this!” He jested as he tossed the book aside. He hopped out of the chair and then scampered over to the washroom closet on the far side of the room. Seeing as how the room was originally built for someone of human size, Gerbo’s head didn’t even reach the top of the counter. He grabbed a stool out of the corner and dragged it in front of the sink. With all the grace of a drunken cat, he leapt up almost causing the whole thing to come crashing down with him. Barley able to maintain, he balanced the wobbling stool before reaching over and turning the primitive faucet on. He could hear the valves turning, allowing the rain water caught on reservoirs set on the roof to empty down the pipes. He chuckled a little while he washed his face. “Well at least what little engineering the humans have is practical.”
Gerbo then looked into the mirror, almost to the point of studding himself. Almost child like in appearance, he had smooth skin still full of youthful vigor and color. His small stature of just over 3 feet added to the illusion. His gnomish features, however, gave away his true age; his slightly receding hair line, stark white hair and beard, and tiny lines around the ellipses of his eyes. He also had the tell tale signs of those of his race, a rather large button nose with flaring nostrils and large dumbo like ears. All in all though, he still was rather attractive by gnomish standards. As he looked though, visions of his dream krept back into his memories. A severe chill crept down his spine at the mental image of the ghastly figure he remembered. Shuttering, he jumped from the stool and headed back into his room.
Ignoring everything else, he trotted over to his closet, looking for his wizard robes. Rummaging through the pile inside, he finally found his old tattered robe. The once wonderfully died forest green fabric was now worn. Patches of hastily sewn, off color fabric from his many adventures now adorned it like war metals. The dark brown trim was frayed and had many loose strings hanging out of everywhere, making it seem that with a single pull, the whole thing might unravel. Even though it was in such a state of disrepair, it was his favorite, and one of the only things he had left that his father had given him. He wouldn’t have it any other way. After dawning the robe, Gerbo walked over to a small chest tucked away at the foot of his bed. Opening it, he reached inside and grabbed a sparkling gold amulet inlayed with a bright, exuberant emerald. As Gerbo peered into the jewel, he could see the swirling lights of gold and black flowing in its core, hinting at the magic held within. Grasping the amulet tightly across his chest, he stood up and walked over to the window.
Looking over the Miyr forest usually calmed him down, but thoughts of his late father were not to be so easily quelled this morn. He let out a soft sigh and slipped the amulet over his neck. The chain caught onto a piece of the robes frayed trim, and ripped a small chunk out. “Dammit!” he said in frustration. “Why are my fathers things at odds with each other today! And why did I have that dream!” He moped back over to his red satin chair and plopped down with a thud. “That was 15 years ago we destroyed Akinar… I remember like it was yesterday…”

lol, thanks! I's the first letterary piece I've written in a VERY long time...

I love how its full of horrible cliche's! the "dream sequence" intro etc.

Oh wow... Gerbo's backstory... Never thought it would be so ominous

Aiie. Bellamin doesn't have a backstory. He's part of a large fantasy story filled with lycanthropic paladins, bi-personality bounty hunters, drunken deathknights, vampiric alchemists.

Carcassio in the Bellamin's history, turns into a vampire. That's how Bellamin gets into the conflict of Sol and Ridel, and the Empire and the Draemon vi.

Mabye I'll write the first chapter.

Raphsody of Corruption

Cliche name I know.

Indeed! though truth be told, Akinar's stats total about 200 CP...

Though Gerbo is WAY more complex of a personality then he show's to everyone, even his close friends that he has made durring his time in Miyr.

Just wait untill I get to the Climax of his troubled past.

Death of his father and best friend, and allegence with a cursed one...

Stay tuned to find out more!